


Negotiable Affections

by TheSmutFaries



Series: Bodice Rippers [2]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Escort Service, Bodice-Ripper, Multi, rom com
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-06-07 12:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmutFaries/pseuds/TheSmutFaries
Summary: The Ichabbie Escort Service AU no one asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on our google docs for about two months now tentatively and affectionately titled Ichahoe.

_Hi, my sister said she had booked me for spending time in your company this weekend. I'm not really sure what the hell she was thinking. She just told me to fax my medical results to your--”_ she cleared her throat _“--manager. Which I guess is a polite way of saying your pimp… God, what am I doing… Sorry. Sorry. That was probably rude as hell to say. Sorry.”_

Ichabod carefully laid out his attire, meticulously positioning it to keep it from wrinkling and to smooth out the slight crease from the hangers.

_Hello. This is Abbie Mills. Again. The rude ass hoe from... Wait. No. That's rude. God. I just can't do this. I need you to cancel whatever my sister booked. It's not you, I'm sure you're a lovely guy… it's just… urgh._

He showered and scrubbed himself nearly raw with the loofah to make sure his skin was soft and pleasant to the touch. He always made sure to use minimally scented all-natural products. Everyone had their “thing”. This was one of his.

_Hi. Abbie Mills yet again. I need to cancel my cancellation. As in, I thought long and hard about the arrangements my sister set. You're just trying to do a job. And my sister paid for your time and it would be rude of me to just flippantly disregard how much time and effort you put into your work. So we're still on for Friday night. I guess. Unless you already scheduled someone in my place. Which, if you did, let me know.”_

It was normal for clients to be nervous their first time. But Miss Mills was certainly a conundrum. Six calls within forty-five minutes! Two of them were to cancel. Three were to uncancel. One he was certain was intended for her sister as it contained profuse swearing and telling the reciever they needed to keep their nose out of her love life before ending with an _oh shit, wrong number_. Finally he decided his best course of action would be to call her and speak to her personally instead of letting her battle things out alone via his voicemail.

Perhaps speaking to her would put her mind at ease. New clients were oft nervous because they had never done this sort of thing before and they knew only what they had seen in the movies. 

He put some music on just loud enough to be heard from the balcony, and took a seat to watch the encroaching evening sky. As blue devoured salmon horizon he dialed the contact number he had been given and waited as it rang.

After a few rings, a soft and tentative voice picked up. “This is Abbie Mills,” she said. “How… how can I help you?”

“Good evening, Miss Mills,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “This is Tom, your companion for tomorrow night.”

“Companion, huh,” she said with a sweet but nervous laugh. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” After a moment she sighed and softly told herself to shut up.

“Each of us has a preferred term,” he said. “I've found 'companion’ to be most suitable to what I do. Especially as your sister was very specific that she wished for you to have what we refer to as The Boyfriend Experience.” He paused briefly. “So tell me, Miss Mills, what activities would give you the most pleasure?”

“I--” she squeaked out. “I… don't know about this… My sister made this arrangement as a quote, gift, knowing damn well I'm a cop…”

His brows arched. “A police officer?” he asked curiously.

“Yes,” she replied meekly. “If that makes you uncomfortable, we can call it all off…”

He chuckled softly. “You would be surprised by how many police officers we have as clients, Miss Mills. It's a stressful job that often leaves you unable to put forth the time and effort of a relationship. Which is where I come in. All the fun of a relationship without the stress of maintaining one.”

“I'm not gonna lie,” Abbie said after a moment. “I'm just not comfortable with the idea of paying for sex. Even if my sister is footing the bill.”

“Rest assured, Miss Mills,” he replied. “All you will receive is a night out on the town, getting wined and dined and properly wooed. That is all. However, we're both adults who are capable of deciding whether we wish to engage in other activities or not after the outing is done. It's not mandatory.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “Really?” Her gentle laugh made him smile. “Okay… so what exactly does getting _wooed_ entail?”

“I would much rather show you,” he said. “If you’re still willing to meet me.”

He heard her sigh and mutter something unintelligible to herself. “Like I said before, I’m a cop, and I've learned to trust my instincts. I… think I do want to meet you. I mean, if you’re still interested. I don’t want to force you to do anything,” she said hastily.

Ichabod is utterly charmed. “Miss Mills, I look forward to meeting you tomorrow,” he said.

They ended their conversation and he made sure his phone was on silent--not vibrate, silent--then set it on the glass top table face down. His ears pricked as he heard a key in the lock. Ichabod glanced at his watch and couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

_Punctual as always_ , he mused as the key rattled in a familiar pattern to indicate it was who he was expecting. However, if they were exactly on time, it meant they were late.

A few seconds later, the door opened then shut gently and Ichabod heard the unmistakable sound of black leather cap-toe Testoni shoes on the wood floors. “You're late,” Ichabod teased.

The arrival didn't speak, merely walked their way to him. Ichabod didn't even fathom flinching when strong hands settled onto his shoulders and squeezed gently. “There was a new valet,” the deep, baritone murmured just over his head. “Forgive me?”

Ichabod tilted his head back to meet warm brown eyes and a gentle but cocky smile. “You know I do, Danny.” His eyes fluttered closed as Danny kissed his forehead. “I made your favorite.”

“If it's not you naked on the bed, I don't want it right now,” Danny rumbled affectionately. “It's been almost three weeks. I've missed you.”

Arching his brows, Ichabod hummed with interest. It wasn't like Danny to get right to the main event. He had come a long way from the abrasive man, confused about his budding attractions to men two years ago. As he became more and more comfortable with his identity as a bisexual man, Danny had become more affectionate and lovable. 

In an almost bittersweet turn, Ichabod felt his time entertaining the handsome FBI director was creeping to an end. It wouldn't be the first time he had helped a client work through their identity crisis, nor would Danny probably be the last. But it was always sad to see them go. 

Ichabod did get rather accustomed to his regulars. Their likes and dislikes. Their little quirks became the little things that made him excited to see them. Such as Danny's secret fixation with chicken enchiladas.

He could easily pack away half a dozen when Ichabod made fresh ones. And Ichabod didn't know how to make a small enchilada either.

“I suppose dinner can wait,” Ichabod purred.

“Damn right it can,” Danny responded, leering in that cocky little way that never failed to get him his way. He leaned over Ichabod and kissed him deeply then pulled back enough to peer down into his eyes. His hands slipped down the front of Ichabod's shirt and started plucking the buttons free. “You're taking too long to get outta these clothes.”

Ichabod gave him a quick peck on the chin then clamored out of his chair. He wordlessly tugged his shirt from his waistline and walked backwards towards the bedroom as he finished the task Danny had started, then shrugged out of his shirt.

Danny made a little pleased sound and removed his blazer, following Ichabod. “That's what I'm talking about…” he said playfully.

Ichabod grinned and made a show of removing his belt. It wasn't until he reached the bedroom door that Danny made haste to catch up to him. A laugh bubbled from Danny's lips as their mouths met and they stumbled into the bedroom together.

~*~

“Hey Abs, want to hit the club with us tonight or are you hiding with overtime again?” 

Abbie felt her spine stiffen as she looked up as Trini, a cute round faced officer, grinned at her. Damn, why was everyone so concerned about what she did on her time off? “Actually,” Abbie said carefully. “I have a date tonight. With an actual human person.”

Her heart beat uncontrollably as Trini gave an enthusiastic “ooooh, Mills has a hot date” which brought another woman over. She silently prayed they didn't ask any questions. But of course she wasn't that lucky.

In hindsight, maybe she should have just left it at “I have plans.” Then again she may have been asked if those plans were sitting at home in her underwear, a tee shirt, and her bunny slippers. Again. And then she would have defended those plans because that was her favorite way to spend her Friday nights.

“So what's his name? Is cute?” Selina asked.

Abbie wanted to crawl into a hole and just not exist. “I… don't know,” she said with a shrug. “It's a blind date kinda thing. All I know is that his name is Tom.”

The ladies groaned in disappointment. “Jenny's setting you up with another white boy, huh?” Trini joked.

Abbie felt her face go slack as she tried to form a face to go with the voice from the phone. That deep, rich baritone when he said _Miss Mills_ had been positively sinful. However, even with that being the case, the only mental images she could come up with when she thought of a male escort was Deuce Bigalow or Derek Zoolander.

She shuddered and tried shake the thoughts out of her head. “I don't know. I do know he's British though, so I’ll be surprised either way.”

There was a chorus of “mmhmm”s and “another dumb white boy”s from her co-workers.

“Well, at least the ones Jenny tries to set you up with usually have the personality of a wet paper towel,” Selina commented with a shrug. “I mean, Nick Hawley for crying out loud.”

“Nice to look at,” Trini nodded. “Dumb as a brick.”

They fell silent as Andy Brooks crept near. Abbie gave him a smile and wave. “Good morning, Andy.”

He flustered slightly and returned a shy greeting, then hurried away. “Oh honey, no, don't encourage him,” Selina said. “I mean, we know y'all been friends since high school but… he gives all the women here the heebe jeebes.”

“Maybe that's all he has to give,” Abbie shrugged. “Besides, he's actually really sweet.”

“You can say creepy,” Trini said. “He's out of earshot.”

“I'm not going to say he's creepy,” Abbie deadpanned.

“So, we are going to hear the details Sunday, right?” Selina asked. 

“Sure thing,” Abbie said with a smile. There was generally nothing better to do on the Sunday morning shift anyway. Sure there was the occasional church picnic that went awry but those were few and far between this time of year. 

As the girls meandered back to their own business, Abbie pulled out her phone and pulled up the website she had gotten off the card Jenny had tucked into her birthday card last week. 

God. This was so embarrassing. Was she really so out of touch with the outside world that her sister thought she needed a prostitute? _Escort_ , she reminded herself. He was _escorting_ her on an outing. To be _wooed_.

To be honest, Abbie wasn't sure which was worse. That she was actually going to go through with this or that Jenny had paid for five “outings”. Or maybe the fact she was scrolling through a barrage of pictures trying to locate “Tom” on a website for male escorts was worse.

There were five Tom's. Three of them were capable of doing a British accent. The page blotted out part of each of their faces but Abbie's eyebrows were nearly up at the ceiling as she perused the options. Okay, maybe this wasn't going to be such a bad thing.

Tom number one was a native of The Islands and had abs for days. He liked a variety of outings from lavish parties to cuddling at home. For fun he liked to go surfing. If one liked dancing and moonlit walks on the beach, he could show you the time of your life. Gay clients only but available for bachelorette and hen parties as “The Designated Gay Friend.”

Okay so that took Tom number one off the list. Damn it.

Tom number two was from London so he was the real deal. _Tom is a graduate of Merton College and loves to travel. He is a classically trained gentleman who is capable of sweeping you off your feet with his eloquent mannerisms and making you the center of his attention. Perfect for the client who loves museums and black tie functions. Pansexual, versatile, and speaks seven languages fluently. English, French, German, Italian, Mandarin, Russian, and Hebrew. And he is currently learning an Arabic dialect and Spanish._

Abbie licked her lips as she scrolled through the photo lineup of Number 2. He looked a little hot college professor-ish. Not that she had a secret fetish for sexy college professors or anything.

Tom number three was a black dominican stage actor native to NYC and was capable of various accents and could do a few region specific dialects. He was bi and spoke English, Spanish, and German. He could cater to your mildest to wildest fantasies with ease. BDSM friendly Dom or sub.

_Oh boy!_ Abbie thought with a chuckle. He sounded fun. If she had to bet, Tom 2 or Tom 3 was the one she spoke to. She was leaning heavily toward 2 because his accent had sounded authentic.

Either way she didn't think she was going to be disappointed. Abbie nearly jumped out of her skin when her phone rang. She scrambled to keep her phone from tumbling from her hands then looked at the number.

_Oh God, it was him!_

Abbie tapped the button to answer and put the phone to her ear. “H-Hello? This is Abbie.”

“Miss Mills,” the voice on the other end said softly.

Abbie swallowed hard. “Yes,” she replied, her voice suddenly softly trembling.

“This is Tom,” he said. “I was wishing to confirm our outing for this evening.”

“Um… yeah. Yeah!” Abbie laughed softly and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I'm sticking to it. Promise.”

“Fantastic,” he murmured, making Abbie shiver. “So, tell me Miss Mills, is there any particular activities you enjoy whilst on an outing? The profile you filled out did not give much information.”

Abbie’s face warmed. One of the hazards of bouncing home to home in her youth was that she tended to leave things very cut and dry. She didn't reveal too much. Just the basics. It's all anyone needed ever know.

“To be honest, it's been a while,” she answered in earnest. “And I've never done anything like this before so I don't know… I mean… what is normally done on this kind of thing?”

He chuckled deeply. “Whatever you want to happen,” he replied. She heard him draw in a deep breath. “Miss Mills--” Abbie had to cross her legs at that “--what color is the nicest frock in your closet? Or what had you planned to wear for this evening?”

“I,” Abbie croaked. She hadn't really planned anything. But there was a dress in the back of her closet that she had been looking for a reason to wear. “Um… It's a sort of white, lacy deal.”

“It sounds absolutely lovely Miss Mills,” he said. “Where would you like to meet? Your home or at a public space?”

“Public,” Abbie answered quickly. He really needed to not say _Miss Mills_ like that. She still had two more hours of work and then she had to get ready for the outing. Damn it. Now _she_ was calling it an outing. “Is the Starbucks on main okay?”

“Perfect,” he replied. “I look forward to seeing you at seven, Miss Mills.”

“Seven it is,” Abbie said softly.

She was smiling when she hung up. To be honest, she didn't feel as weird about this whole thing now. It still felt weird, just not as much. He seemed like a nice guy. Abbie just kept making sure to remind herself that this guy literally made a living being paid to be charming and seductive.

She resolved to just enjoy herself with Tom number 2 and nothing more.


	2. First Impressions

In ordinary circumstances at beautiful woman in a fancy dress would have stood out like a sore thumb at Starbucks. But as luck would have it, it was prom night in Sleepy Hollow. Therefore, everyone in Starbucks was dressed in their finest. He tried discerning which of the six young ladies in a white lace dress looked old enough to be his client.

That turned out to not be as easy as he thought.

“Mills!” the barista called out. “Grande Ultimate Caramel Frappacino with a shot of espresso for Mills!”

Ichabod watched as a petite figure ducked from behind a peacock frocked girl, latched her hands around the drink, and slunk back into the crowd. He ducked around the boisterous teenagers, hoping to spot Miss Mills.

He spotted her standing before a little table and plush chair as someone settled themselves in with a laptop and headphones. Ichabod could practically feel the irritation cascading from the tiny woman. His brows arched as he drank her in.

If he were to ever profess to having a “type” she would tick all the right boxes. Petite and curvy. Hips and an ass that could keep his fingers and mouth busy for hours. Blimey, she had to be at least a foot shorter than he but her white stilettos made it look like she had legs for days. Her dark curls were quaffed and elegantly pinned with sparkling gems.

He watched her warm brown shoulders slump before she turned. Ichabod approached, his eyes focused in on her. Good Lord, she was breathtaking. Surely their roles should have been reversed! It should be he paying a sum to be in _her_ company.

When their eyes met, he saw her breath hitch. He could see a billion questions on her face as her eyes widened in a way that immediately invoked the phrase “Disney Princess.”

“Miss Mills?” Ichabod greeted gently.

She shifted her drink to her left hand then stretched out her right. “Abbie Mills, you must be Tom?”

“I must be,” he murmured, taking her hand. He bowed over her hand and placed a feather light kiss on her knuckles. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mills.”

He watched as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. So he hadn't misread her reaction over the phone. That was good to know and he made a mental note to call her “Miss Mills” whenever he could.

“Same,” Abbie said softly. 

Ichabod glanced around. “Had I known this would be a popular prom spot, I would have chosen elsewhere for us to meet,” he said. 

Abbie’s dark eyes peered up at him. “We can leave,” she said gently. She sucked in a breath then sighed heavily. “Do whatever it is that goes on with this kind of thing…”

“I had planned a nice dinner,” Ichabod said. “Perhaps a walk in the park, if that is to your liking. From there, it's wherever my lady leads.”

She smiled bashfully and looked away. “You have more experience with this than I do so lead the way.”

“I have no problem doing so until you feel more comfortable,” Ichabod said. He glanced down at her shoes and considered his plans. “Are you able to walk in those?”

Abbie laughed. “I’m used to _running_ in these,” she said with playful smugness. “As long as we’re not running a marathon I can handle a stroll.”

“Oh good; with someone as beautiful as you on my arm I wish to show you off a bit,” Ichabod said, smiling curiously when a strange expression crossed her face. “What?”

Abbie smirked. “Nothing.”

“No, Treasure, please continue.”

At the endearment Abbie’s eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline. “You don't have to do that,” she stated. At his questioning look, she clarified, “Say I'm beautiful and call me sweet names.”

Oh dear, he thought, she was going to be quite the challenge as far as clients went. “I was merely making an observation, Miss Mills,” he said as he escorted her from the noisy coffee shop. “You are, indeed, very beautiful. And I referred to you as Treasure because you're literally sparkling like a horde precious gems. But if you are not a fan of endearments I can refrain.”

When he looked down at her, she was looking up at him, as though spellbound. “You don't _have to_ use them. I don't mind them it's just… they're not necessary.” She looked away quickly. “I mean, think of the time you have to spend with me as… a break. You don't have to do all the fake sexy stuff. You can just be yourself.”

Oh no. No. No. Ichabod knew this type of client very well. They thought they were wasting his time or felt they wasn't worth the trouble of him doing his job properly. 

He slowly stopped and turned toward Abbie. When he tilted up her chin he saw everything he ever needed to know about her. “Miss Mills,” he murmured. Her eyes fluttered closed and she tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth. “Rest assured. Nothing I do or say for you or anyone else is anything less than what I wish to do.” He trailed his knuckles along her jaw. “I enjoy what I do. I enjoy making people feel special. Because you are. You're all special and dear to me in your own unique and special ways. And there is nothing I would rather do with my time than to make absolutely certain you know just how special you really are.”

“Oh,” Abbie responded breathlessly, as his fingers trailed down the side of her neck and the span of brown skin the off-shoulder dress left on display. She shivered gently then looked up at him. “As long as it's what you _want_ to do.”

Why did her eyes have to look so aglow in the soft light of the street lamp, he wondered. Why did she have to invoke thoughts of this being a normal date with a normal person? Perhaps it was because she wasn't really the one paying the fee.

The request had been odd, yes, but it wasn't the first time someone had paid for his services for a friend or family member. 

_“She's in dire need of some dick but she keeps claiming she's too busy with work to date,” the sister had explained. “I don't care what you have to do, she needs to get laid.”_

_“I would be happy to do so, if she is willing of course, but you must understand sexual activity is not mandatory in my line of work,” Ichabod explained._

_The sister had laughed. “Well, folks don't pay hoes to cuddle,” she joked._

He had almost not taken the encounters over that comment. But he had already lost one long term client, he was certain Danny would be going his own way soon, and having this woman's sister as a temporary client would have given him time to find another long-term or two. So he had told the sister that he would require payment for all five encounters up front. He may or may not have thrown in an extra fee just out of spite.

After all, it was the woman on the phone that would be out the money, not the client. The client, in reality, was quite lovely and amusing to say the least. He had been pleasantly surprised by her after speaking over the telephone a few times.

He hadn't expected someone so… beautiful. Beautiful smile. Beautiful eyes. And he just kept mentally ticking those little boxes. He recognised her “slip ups” pertaining to his work as her being nervous and feeling out of her element. 

One thing he couldn't figure out was, _how the hell was she single_? Even on the premise that she was simply too busy with work, she should be up to her eyeballs in suitors. Even if it was for a quick encounter. How has she managed to go so long that a third party saw it fit to set her up with a sex worker?

For five encounters.

Ichabod pulled his head out of his thoughts as they meandered toward their dining establishment. The place he had chosen for dinner was merely around the corner and they made it there in no time. After they were seated, he noticed Abbie glancing around. 

“This place is a bit fancier than what I'm used to,” she said with a nervous laugh. She balked when she opened the menu. “Oh wow. A _side salad_ is ten dollars, does the dressing have gold flakes in it or something?” She gave a nervous laugh and after a moment she set the menu down. “I don't think I'm all that hungry…”

“Expense is no issue,” Ichabod assured. “Order whatever you would like.”

Abbie smiled and laughed softly. “Somehow I don't think they'd have a double cheeseburger with bacon. Or if they do it's teeny tiny.”

Inspiration suddenly struck. Abbie was a simple woman with simple needs. She didn't care for extravagance. When the waiter came back around, Ichabod gave them a pleasant smile. “If you don't mind, Steven, we've been suddenly called away and cannot dine tonight.”

“Mmhmm, I'm sure you have,” Steven purred mischievously. “It's no problem. Geoff will send you the bill for the last minute cancel.”

“Absolutely,” Ichabod said, standing. “My lady?” He offered Abbie his hand which she eyed for a moment before taking. 

She followed him outside, waiting until they were away from the restaurant to ask, “What's going on?”

“You asked for me to be myself,” he said. “So we're going somewhere very personal to me.”

A ten minute ride in an Uber Black later, Ichabod opened the door to a little local eatery. He knew the moment Abbie's face lit up, that he had made the right choice.

A small, elderly woman scurried up to Ichabod, practically yanked his face down to hers and kissed both of his cheeks as she greeted him in Italian. She then looked at Abbie, threw her hands up with a delighted cry, then gave Abbie the same greeting.

“What's she saying?” Abbie asked as the wee women led them toward a table near the kitchen. 

“She said it's good for me to return and to bring such a pretty lady,” Ichabod replied. “And she has the perfect seat for us.”

“The table closest to the kitchen?” Abbie asked curiously.

“It's where Mama 'Glesi sits the family,” he provided. 

Abbie grinned. “Hmm… seated at the family table at a Mom and Pop Italian place just outside of The City,” she hummed. “Do you have a secret double life as a mobster?”

“I'm not sure,” Ichabod said thoughtfully. “Those who wrong me do tend to end up missing…” Abbie burst into giggles. “Mama and Papa Puglesi came to America during the second world war as refugees.” 

Mama Gelsi patted his cheek. “ _You shouldn't be a stranger, Ichabod. I've been worried about you_ ,” Mama Glesi scolded lightly in her native tongue. “ _I thought we had upset you_.”

Ichabod took Mama Glesi's hand and kiss her fingers. “ _You didn't upset me, Mama. I've just been very busy. I will do better and not stay away too long next time_.”

“ _That's my boy_ ,” Mama cooed and wandered off to the kitchen, calling for one of her granddaughters.

Ichabod returned his attention to Abbie. She was looking at him with a gentle smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. “They came as refugees?” she asked.

He nodded. “They were one of the few that managed to be granted sanctuary. This restaurant helped them put their six daughters through college. They don't get much business anymore since the Olive Garden opened but… I much prefer this place. It's very personal.”

“And legit Italian food,” Abbie pointed out.

“All made by Mama Glesi's own hands,” Ichabod said. 

“Ichabod!” a cheery voice greeted. He looked up to see one of Mama Glesi's granddaughters approaching, ticket book in hand. “Nonna said you had actually brought someone with you for once. We were starting to worry.”

The young woman beamed at him and Abbie. Abbie gave him an impish smile.

“Ah, yes. Zoe, this is Abbie,” Ichabod introduced, hoping he was masking the slight panic at his client hearing his real name. “Abbie, this is Miss Zoe Corinth, one of Mama Glesi's granddaughters.”

“Hi,” Abbie said shyly.

“You _are_ very pretty,” Zoe commented. “Has Ichabod recited the menu to you yet or do you need one to look at?”

“What do you have on special?” Abbie asked.

Zoe considered her response for a moment. “We have our lasagna special that comes with a drink and your choice of tiramisu or one of Nonna's fresh canollis for dessert for eleven dollars. Large three topping pie with salads, drinks, and garlic bread knots for two for twenty-one ninety-nine… Gosh. We got so much.”

Abbie looked at him and smiled. “What would you suggest?”

“Absolutely anything is a delight here but I have a soft spot for Mama Glesi's pesto cheese tortellini. It is _divine_. I don't know what her secret is but… it's like nothing I've ever tasted.”

“The secret is a minimum of nine bulbs of garlic in the sauce and a mix of different cheeses in the tortellini but I'm not at the liberty to say which ones,” Zoe grinned. “Family secret.”

“I think I'll have that,” Abbie said.

“As will I,” Ichabod said with a nod. He looked at Abbie. “Would you care to have wine? Or would you prefer something non-alcoholic?”

Abbie bit her bottom lip. “A glass of wine would be nice,” she said meekly.

“Can I recommend our Trebianno du Lugana?” Zoe asked. “It's a full bodied white with delightful spiced apricot flavor, it pairs excellently with your orders.”

“That sounds nice actually,” Abbie said with a bright smile.

“The same for me as well, Zoe,” Ichabod stated.

With that, Zoe grinned and bound off to put in their order. Ichabod swallowed hard, wondering when the shoe would drop.

“So why did she call you Ichabod,” Abbie asked curiously, folding her arms on the table in front of herself.

Ichabod sucked in a breath and leaned back in his seat. “I have a confession. But you must promise not to tell another soul, as I very rarely share this with anyone, much less so soon.”

Abbie’s eyes softened as she tilted her head. “Your secret is safe with me,” she said gently.

“My name isn't Tom, as I've led you to believe. My name is Ichabod Crane and this is one of my private places,” he admitted shyly.

“Ichabod Crane,” she said slowly. “It has a very… classical feel to it. But it's no surprise you go by Tom.”

His smile turned wry. “Because it’s so _classical_?”

Abbie burst out laughing. “That sounded better in my head,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”

Ichabod waved her off good-naturedly. “Don’t be. You don’t get named Ichabod in infancy to grow up with anything _but_ a thick skin and a sense of humor about it.”

Closing her eyes and shaking her head. “What I meant was… Tom is a very common name. It'd be hard for someone to find you using that name. Ichabod, well… I don't know of very many.”

“And you shan't,” Ichabod replied. “Not unless you were to research my great, great, great--” he scrunched his face in thought. “--great grandfather that fought in the American Revolution, I dare say you would be hard pressed to find another Ichabod.”

He noticed she was looking at him most peculiar. Her eyes dancing, her smile luminous. She ducked her head shyly when he cocked a brow. “Sorry. I could almost imagine this was a first date that started terrible and suddenly started going really well.”

“Why imagine?” Ichabod asked, folding his hands under his chin to smile at her. “Why can't this simply be a first date?”

Abbie pursed her lips then opened her mouth to speak, then clamped it closed again. Her brow furrowed as she tilted her head contemplatively. “Because… my sister paid for you to be with me. This is your job.”

“A technicality,” Ichabod shrugged. “It doesn't mean you can't think of it as a date. And this is where I make the awkward 'It’s a funny story we can tell our grandchildren’ comment.” He grinned, which made Abbie laugh again. “You have a lovely laugh and smile.”

He was pretty sure Abbie was blushing. Her head suddenly wretched around when music began to softly play. “ _O Sole Mio_. One of my favorites,” Ichabod said. He held out his hand. “Would you care to dance, Miss Mills?”

“Here?” Abbie asked. “In the middle of the restaurant?”

“Why else would there be so much space between the tables?” Ichabod asked. “Besides, we're the only customers besides Anthony in the front.” He nodded toward an elderly man seated at the window. The man had his eyes closed and a smile on his face as the music played. “He comes every Friday because it was his wife's favorite place.”

Abbie put her hand in Ichabod's. “Okay you talked me into it.”

Ichabod stood and guided Abbie to the open space between the tables. Her hands immediately went to his shoulders and he settled his hands onto the curve of her waist. 

“Are you sure they don't mind us dancing?” Abbie asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I think Mama Glesi would be more insulted if we didn't,” Ichabod said. “The fact she put this song in particular on means she's trying to encourage romance.”

Abbie wrinkled her nose as she smiled. “Mischievous little old granny.”

Ichabod hummed and nodded. “She is very mischievous.” He slid his hands up Abbie's arms to lightly grasp her fingers before taking a step back, then giving her a twirl. “I'd stay below your window. When night comes and the sun has gone down. But another sun, that's brighter still. It's my own sun that's upon your face!”

Abbie's brows arched with interest. “Is that what he's singing?”

Ichabod nodded. “It is.”

“Its sweet.”

Abbie squealed when he pulled her close then lowered her into a dip as the song came to an end. She puffed out a breath and fanned herself when he brought her upright. “You're good at this romancing stuff. You should do it for a living.”

“I've debated it,” Ichabod stated. He bowed elegantly and kissed her hand. “You are an excellent dance partner.” He swept his hand toward their table and smiled. “Shall we?”

He watched as Abbie startled at seeing Zoe lighting a candle, the light bouncing off their wine glasses. “Nonna insisted,” Zoe said with a grin as they approached.

Ichabod noted that their chairs had also been moved closer together. He and Abbie shared a glance as he pulled her chair out for her. “Thank you, Zoe,” Ichabod said. “And give Mama Gelsi my thanks too.”

“Will do. Your meal should be up shortly but we brought you some garlic bread knots to get you started,” Zoe chirped.

Ichabod scooted Abbie's chair up as Zoe meandered away then slipped into his own seat.

“I can't believe I have never heard of this place when I've lived in Sleepy Hollow my entire life,” Abbie said, looking around. “Or is this just some really nifty liminal space and, if I ever try to find it during daylight hours, it'll be an old building with boards on the window?”

“I hope not, I adore the luncheon specials. It's usually enough to feed a small army for five dollars,” Ichabod replied. “Ten if you tip generously.”

Abbie sipped at her wine then set her glass down. “Oh, that's nice,” she said softly.

Ichabod picked up one of the bread knots, broke a piece free, then dipped it in the olive oil and garlic sauce before holding it up to Abbie's lips. “Then you'll love this.”

Abbie flickered her gaze between the bit of bread and his face, then closed her mouth around the nibble, trapping his fingers for a moment. Ichabod felt his heart stumble in his chest as her eyes danced in the soft candlelight.

“Oh my God,” Abbie moaned softly. “This is a million times better than Olive Garden could dream of.”

Ichabod put his finger to her lips. “Shhh. We do not speak the evil’s name in these sacred walls.” He slid his free arm along the back of her chair, moving his own chair closer. His focus shifted to her lips as he fed her another small sample of the bread knots. 

Her mouth was the sort of thing that lesser women coveted. Near perfect, elegant arches, full with just the slightest natural pout that made one long to kiss her breathless. 

When she didn't shirk away from his casual closeness, he shifted a little closer. Her eyes sparkled like dark gems caught in the moonlight as her body language became a little more welcoming. Had it not been for Mama Glesi and Zoe bringing out the entree, Ichabod was fairly certain he would have gotten to kiss the lovely maiden before him.

But the aroma of the food presented took the edge off his irritation, and both he and Abbie immediately and enthusiastically tucked in. Normally during these dates Ichabod found himself employing his well rehearsed pool of general knowledge to prod the conversation forward in the most natural manner feasible, but for the first time in … in, well ever, Ichabod thinks, he’s on the receiving end of thoughtful and engaging questions. 

He watched her take her first bite and the way she delicately swiped her tongue along the tongs of her fork with envy. Her eyes fluttered closed and she made a soft moaning sound that went straight to his cock. 

“Oh my _God_ ,” she groaned. Her eyes shimmered as she dabbed at her bottom lip with a napkin. “Thank you for bringing me here. You have no idea how close I was to excusing myself to the bathroom at the other place and not coming back.”

“I must admit, most of my clientele would find this place sorely lacking,” Ichabod said. “But when I noticed how uncomfortable the other place made you, I suspected a quiet, personal space such as this would be precisely to your liking.”

“Was I being that obvious with how uncomfortable I was?” Abbie asked.

“You were keeping stock of every potential exit,” he stated. “You tried to make it look like you were just looking around in awe, but your eyes and smile was ready to run.” She blinked at him, he chuckled. “I'm just very observant. Lesser men would have been fooled.”

His eyes fell to a bit of pesto on her bottom lip and he couldn't help but wet his own as he imagined how she'd taste. As if followed the trail of his thoughts, Abbie pulled her bottom lip between her teeth then released with a gentle sound.

She stared at him a long moment before shaking her head to clear it. “You don't have to do that,” she said, her voice low and sensual. She cleared her throat and repeated her statement more levelly.

“Do what?” Ichabod asked.

“Look at me like you… want me,” she said, looking away. She pressed the back of her hand to her cheeks then took a long drink of wine.

“Oh but I _do_ ,” he purred. He leaned close enough to breathe her in before murmuring in her ear. “I haven't been able to think of anything other than kissing you since I saw you at the Starbucks.”

Abbie shivered as she set her glass down and turned her head enough that they were practically nose to nose. She swallowed hard and croaked, “Oh? Just a kiss?”

“Now that you mention it,” Ichabod rumbled. “I would take immense pleasure in slowly stripping this lovely dress off of you.” He trailed his fingers up her thigh light as a feather.

He pulled back and smirked as Abbie squeaked and began swatting at him. “You're being rude. Nonna made this fantastic meal for us and you're wanting to play,” Abbie scolded lightly, then tucked her hair behind her ear. She gave him a pointed look. “You're so bad.”

“I've been told I can be absolutely terrible,” he teased, grinning broadly.

 

“ _That you are, Ichabod_ ,” Mama Gelsi chided as she brought another, smaller tray. On it lay a fragrant pile of skewers. “Mini caprese skewers,” she proclaimed proudly, in English, as she presented the dish.

Abbie ooh’d and aah’d appropriately, and when they were left alone she turned to see Ichabod had one in his hand, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Are you going to feed me again,” she murmured as she tried to tamp down her smile.

Ichabod chuckled. “Guilty as charged,” he said. “One couldn’t blame me, though. You have an exquisite mouth.” He held the skewer aloft, eyes darkening as Abbie leaned forward, taking half the skewer into her mouth before closing her lips.

She made that delightful noise again. Good Lord. Normally he had to pop a pill to get this aroused for a client. Yet this lovely woman had him squirming in his seat. He supposed that's what happened when a client just happened to tick all his boxes.

“Mama Glesi makes her own balsamic vinegar and mozzarella,” Ichabod said. “And most of the items for her appetizers come from her own garden.”

“I believe it,” Abbie said, almost breathlessly. “God it's so good.” She scooped up a skewer and held it up before him. “Your turn. It's only fair.”

“Of course,” Ichabod replied, lightly grasping her wrist and stroking his thumb along the sensitive flesh over her pulse as he consumed the entire contents of the skewer in one mouthful. He softly pressed a kiss to her wrist as he chewed, keeping his eyes on hers.

Abbie’s breath hitched as he gently nibbled at her skin, then pulled her hand away. She cleared her throat. “So…” again she cleared her throat. “So how exactly did you decide to get into your line of work?”

Ichabod smirked and migrated fully back into his seat. “I helped out a friend that was doing a hen party while I was in university, as a dancer. He was, not me. I was simply meant to keep drinks and nibbles in high supply. One of the ladies in attendance and I hit it off quite well and… after an incredible evening and morning, she asked how much I normally charged.

“Turns out, she was a manager for several ladies and my friend,” Ichabod finished. “She gave me her card and said if I ever considered making excellent money, to give her a call. I think I called her three weeks later when my mother got upset that I was donating blood to make money. She helped me find a good manager here in the US when I moved here.”

“What did your parents have to say about… this?” Abbie asked, nibbling at another skewer.

“Oh, they disowned me, obviously,” Ichabod replied with a casual shrug. When she looked at him with wide, sympathetic eyes, he shook his head and chuckled. “We were never close to begin with because I didn't want to follow in my father's footsteps and become a boring university professor.” He cocked his head curiously. “What about you? How did such a tiny woman such as yourself decide to become a police officer? And what do your parents think of your choice?”

Abbie ducked her head sheepishly. “Okay, that's fair.” She sucked in a breath then let out a soothing exhale. “My dad left when me and my sister were kids. He never divorced our mom so we're not sure where he went. Our mom was never the same afterward. She eventually killed herself and me and Jenny went into the system. 

“I had just turned 18, when Sheriff Corbin caught me and a boyfriend doing a little breaking and entering. My boyfriend got away but left me to take the fall,” she admitted.

“Ouch,” Ichabod said with a slight cringe. Abbie smiled and laughed softly.

“Corbin gave me a choice. Keeping heading down the path I was going or I could start working for the sheriff's department,” Abbie said. “He said he would be my mentor and put me through the academy. In return, he'd tell the people we were trying to rob that they couldn't find the people that tried to break in. Obviously I took the route that kept my record clean.”

Abbie looked away for a moment. “Corbin is obviously stupid proud of me. He sort of took me and Jenny both under his wing after the b and e incident. He's like a dad to us now. I think my mom would be proud of me. Personally I don't give a shit what my birth dad thinks.”

“Rightfully so,” Ichabod said gently. 

The rest of their dinner was full of delightful exchange, as one would do on any real date. It was the most at ease Ichabod had felt with a client in some time--aside from Daniel who not only knew his real name but had his personal number and knew where he lived.

Abbie was just as much of a delight as he had first thought she would be. Charming too. Not to mention she had laughed at his cheesy joke about becoming a linguistics expert in university _just_ so he could tell people he was a cunning linguist.

By time Zoe brought out the tiramisu for them to share, he was absolutely besotted. He licked his lips when a small smudge of mascarpone settled near the corner of her mouth. But her pink tongue darted out to retrieve the smudge before he could.

Once dinner was done, Abbie dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “I need to pop into the ladies room right quick, but I'll be right out. I promise. I won't be legging it out the window.”

“I didn't think you would,” Ichabod said, kissing the back of her hand.

Abbie bit her bottom lip to keep from grinning as she slipped from her seat. He watched the sway of her hips as she made her way toward the faded _bagno_ sign in the back corner of the restaurant. As soon as she disappeared into the hallway, Ichabod scrambled for the small plastic bag in his trousers pocket.

Even if he was wrongly anticipating what would be following dinner, he wanted to be ready. If he wasn't wrong, he wanted to make sure Abbie was thoroughly satisfied. He swallowed down his little pill with the last sip of his wine. And if it didn't go any further than giving her a kiss goodnight at her car, he knew exactly where to “accidentally” bump into handsome FBI directors on a Friday night. Handsome FBI directors that would know exactly what to do with the outcome of the little blue pill.

Either way, Ichabod would not be disappointed in the least.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the encounter is over, what is going to happen?

Abbie checked her reflection, topped off her lip gloss, fixed a curl or two, refreshed her lip gloss again because she had already licked her lips free of the cherry flavored balm. She reached into her top to adjust the girls in her bra, giving herself optimal cleavage.

_Shit_.

What was she doing? 

She was acting like this was a real date is what she was doing. Abbie reminded herself that Jenny had paid him to take her on a date. She hated how easy it was to forget that detail. He was so damn charming. How the hell could someone be that damn charming for someone that their only interest in the other person was financial?

It was weird. She had never really thought about how effortlessly seductive an escort might be. Then again, she had never really thought about what an escort’s job entailed. Other than what was involved when they did sting ops. 

She was accustomed to cranked out girls in mini skirts and tube tops, offering their services to score enough money to get their next fix. She thought of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, Billie Piper in Secret Diary. What she didn't think of was… Ichabod Crane.

Though she supposed if male strippers existed, it was only appropriate that male escorts existed too. It hadn't been until she looked at that damn website that she realized exactly how _common_ it was. Not to mention, she found out there were _several_ similar websites.

It was mind blowing to say the least. The ladies and gentleman on the websites were not just trying to get a quick buck by giving blowjobs in the back alley. They were _professionals_. They charged professional prices. It was like the price difference between having a paralegal see to a legal matter or hiring the partner attorney.

Abbie let out a heavy sigh. Sex wasn't a given in this. Just because she was feeling it didn't mean he was. And she wasn't going to insist just because of some misguided idea about what he's “supposed” to do. Although with the way he had been talking--and, to be honest, looking at her--he at least wanted to kiss her.

The other stuff about stripping her naked and the cuninglingus joke were probably just him being cheeky. She'd see where this went at the very least. She'd play it with no expectations beyond him dropping her off at her car. Maybe a kiss at the most. 

Abbie pursed her lips. Then she refreshed her lip gloss one last time. She scowled at a vagrant curl and tucked it behind her ear. “Stay put or I'm chopping you off,” she grumbled.

Of course as soon as she turned away from the mirror, the curl sprang free, but went unnoticed. Abbie let herself out of the bathroom and returned to the table to see Mama Glesi with Ichabod’s face in her hands. He was red faced and Zoe was nearby cackling. Suddenly Mama Glesi planted a kiss on his mouth then let him go with a cheerful laugh and pinched his cheek.

“Give him a break Nonna,” Zoe said. “He said it's the first date.” The little old woman said something in Italian which resulted in a scandalised, “ _Nonna_!”

Oh Abbie couldn't wait to hear what all this was about. Ichabod stood as she approached. “I have settled the bill and we are free to leave.”

Abbie beamed a smile at him then at the other two women. “Dinner was fabulous. I'll have to get Ichabod to bring me back again sometime.”

Mama ‘Glesi pulled Abbie into a hug and then patted her cheeks. “ _Lo ferisca, avrò il mio genero a farti sparire_ ,” she said with an affectionate tone.

“Umm… thank you?” Abbie replied, glancing at Ichabod for an indication of what the woman may have said.

Mama Glesi turned toward Ichabod and waggled her finger at him. “ _Lo stesso vale anche per te, ragazzino_.”

Ichabod took the old lady's hands in his and spoke softly to her in Italian before kissing her fingers. He then offered his hand to Abbie. She smiled and took it, marvelling at how his hand practically engulfed hers.

“How do you feel about a post dinner constitutional?” Ichabod asks as he holds the door open for her to exit. He glances down at her heels and winces. “Or perhaps not.”

Abbie laughs. “You don’t get to be my height and not get plenty of hours in heels,” she jokes. “I’m up for it.”

“Are you sure? I know beauty is pain, but I have never taken much stock in that,” he said.

Abbie smiled. “You’re sweet,” she said, and blinked in surprise. “I didn’t mean to say that,” she said, laughing. “And I don’t know why I said that, either. I meant to say that most guys don’t even think about something like that when they make plans and it’s nice to be… considered.”

Ichabod nods. “I feel consideration is one of the major things lacking in our day to day lives,” he said as he led them down the quaint cobblestone path that eventually joined the sidewalk. There was a sleek black car waiting. 

“How about this, while we return to your car you can decide whether you want this date to continue and if so, we can take a leisurely trip around Colonial Park or we can get a post-dessert cappuccino.” Ichabod stepped forward to open the door for Abbie, taking her hand to help her inside.

“The lady’s choice, huh?” Abbie asks as she stared up at Ichabod. “And if I decided I wanted the night to end now?”

Ichabod felt his heart pound. “I would bid you goodnight and allow you to take the car on your own,” he said. “Though I would be remiss if I didn’t say it would be a most disappointing ending to what I feel is a marvelous evening.”

Abbie stared up at him with a small smile. “Good to know. I agree,” she said. “So are you going to get in?” She laughed as he immediately closed her door and checked for oncoming traffic before he dashed around and entered on the other side. 

~*~

“So I slam through the door with all my strength, but what I didn’t know was that there was a coffee table just inside the room,” Abbie said sourly as Ichabod turns a faint shade of red as he tried to stifle his laugh. 

“Oh no,” he said, his voice strangely strained. “What happened next?”

“You know that term, head over heels?” she said, and at that Ichabod burst into laughter. 

A few curious park goers glanced over at the meandering pair but neither noticed as they made their way through the park on the path that rounded the small, picturesque lake. Ichabod’s laughter tapered off as he reached for his handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes. “Oh, please forgive me,” he said after a moment. “I just had the most startlingly clear image of you going end over end into the room. I pray you weren’t hurt,” he said.

“Just my pride,” Abbie said, chuckling along with him. “Best believe from then on I made sure to keep my momentum to a minimum just in case.”

Ichabod laughed again. “Who knew the life of a lieutenant could be so action-packed?” he said. 

“What do you mean?” Abbie asked.

“Considering Sleepy Hollow is such a quiet town. Or at least it’s advertised as such,” Ichabod said. He smirked at her expression. “Is that false advertising?”

“Hell yes,” Abbie said good-naturedly. “We don’t get nearly as many calls as say, New York City, but we stay hopping. And the sheriff's department doesn’t just handle Sleepy Hollow, but we cover Tarrytown and some other smaller towns as well.” She paused for a moment. “Okay, my turn. Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Absolutely.”

Abbie worried her bottom lip as she considered her query. As good as everything was going, she was a little scared to mess it up with an inappropriate question. “Have you ever had a client where y'all just didn't… click?”

Ichabod laughed heartily as he swung their hands between them. “Of course I have. I can't possibly be to _everyone's_ liking. Actually I had one that punched me in the face once because he thought I was a pretentious… ah… well. I'm not going to use the word he said. But let's just say it was quite insulting.”

Abbie scowled. Ichabod cocked a brow.

“It happens,” he added with an indifferent shrug “People pay you for a service and think it gives them the right to abuse you.” He stopped and tilted up her chin. “How often have you been informed that someone's taxes pay your salary and so you have to do as they say?”

“Doesn't make it okay,” Abbie said quietly. 

“If it's any consolation the good vastly outweighs the bad.”

“There shouldn’t be any bad for you, you're a sweet guy,” Abbie huffed. She looked up when he chuckled. “What's so funny?”

“I have a _regular_ that threatens to hunt down the bad ones if I happen to mention them and now I'm imagining the two of you parading through the Hudson Valley pursuing those who have wronged me,” Ichabod replied. He leaned into her personal space. “I believe it is my turn again. Permission to ask a personal question as well.”

Abbie mulled over what he could ask that was personal. She had already told him about her parents and Corbin and Jenny… she had shared one of her most embarrassing cop tales. What else could there possibly be?

“Go for it,” she granted.

Ichabod whirled around so that he was walking backwards in front of her, still gripping her hand gently. His eyes glimmered wickedly as he dropped his tone to a seductive timbre. “So tell me, Lieutenant, when was the last time a partner made you cum so hard you forgot your name?”

Abbie felt her breath hitch and for a second she lost her footing. This only made his smile even more arcane as she staggered into his arms. She laughed as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “That's not personal. That's private,” she deflected.

Although, now that she thought about it. It had been well over a year since she had partaken in a booty call with Luke from the station. Things were still kinda awkward between them because he had wanted more and she… hadn't been feeling it.

And even then he hadn't ever done anything impressive enough to make her forget her name.

“Judging by your response it's been a while,” Ichabod murmured against her temple. 

Abbie nodded bashfully and stepped back to smooth her dress. Her eyes flickered to her car, looking nearby. 

Damn, he was smooth. And damn she was ready to drag him into her back seat and tell him to have his filthy way with her. Damn it! They were at her car already? Surely the park was further away than that!

And had that been what she thought it was, pressing against her belly?

She didn't get an answer to her question because he led her to her car. He brought her hand to his lips and her heart stumbled as he held her gaze. “Tonight has been most delightful Lieutenant,” he murmured, placing a kiss on each of her knuckles.

Abbie sucked in a deep breath. Shit… she had thought his calling her “Miss Mills” was sexy, it was nothing compared to the way he purred “Lieutenant.” 

“It has,” she agreed, silently cursing the soft tremble in her voice. “The most fun I've on a date in a long time.”

He delicately entwined his fingers with the hand he was holding then used his other hand against the small of her back to pull her close. Her eyes widened and she licked her lips. Yep. That was exactly what she thought it was, pressed against her belly. The hand at the small of her back, ghosted over the dip of her waist before trailing along the curve of her hip.

Ichabod rested his forehead against hers. “I supposed this is good night,” he asked, his voice husky with desire. 

Abbie's fingers crept up the front of his shirt and gripped the lapels of his coat. “Is it?” she asked.

“If you're not ready for it to end, my flat is only a block away,” he murmured. 

“Is that what you want?” Abbie asked, her dark eyes peering into his.

“More than anything else at this moment,” he replied.

Abbie melted when his lips crashed down on hers. Her fists clenched his coat and she pushed onto her toes before her knees decided to turn to jelly and that was the only way to convince them to work. Ichabod wrapped his arms around her waist, one hand cupping her ass as he dragged her flush up against his body.

She felt the effect of the kiss shiver down her spine and she felt heat pool between her legs. If all of that was just from a kiss, she could only imagine what he'd do to her once he had her in a bedroom.

“ _Yooooo get that swirl on, Homeboy_!”

Abbie tore her mouth away from Ichabod's and glared at suited high school kids at a Starbucks patio table, sipping drinks. They all had shit-eating grins on their faces as they raised their paper cups in a toast toward them. Their gowned dates were gazing her and Ichabod's direction with dazzled expressions. She felt her face warm and she scoffed, “Oh my God,” against his chest.

His laugh rumbled deep from inside his chest. “Shall we go to my flat, Lieutenant?”

She looked up at him and licked her lips, tasting him there. Her body was screaming. He wanted this. She wanted this. So what harm was it? They were both consenting adults, who had just had a lovely time…

Abbie nodded lightly, which resulted in a hoot of cheer from the prom kids. She glared at them. “I will have you all know, I am a cop, and there is a curfew.”

“You really want to haul us in when you could be gettin dick?” one of the girls asked with a grin.

Abbie narrowed her eyes at the girl. Ichabod nibbled at her neck. “Let them have their fun, Lieutenant,” he murmured. “So we can have our own fun.”

She looked up at Ichabod's eager face. “Okay…” she said softly then looked back at the prom kids. “You guys get off easy this time. Just because it's prom.”

There was a chorus of “mmhmm”s and one boisterous “Get It!” as Ichabod took her hand and led her down the sidewalk.

~*~

Abbie was giddy. She hadn’t been giddy about sex since she had been a teenager, eager about showing her boyfriend how much she loved him. That giddiness had come and gone almost as quick as her boyfriend but this… oh Good God… _this_ giddiness got built upon every half a minute by Ichabod murmuring what he wanted to do to her once they were alone.

He pulled her close as they approached the steps of a high dollar condo structure. Abbie had only ever swung by the place while on patrol because “driving by once or twice a night makes the residents feel safe.” It was a renovated colonial house that had been converted into six luxury condos full of modern amenities. 

“I'm going to kiss my way up your thighs and pleasure you with my tongue and fingers until you're trembling,” Ichabod rasped. Her knees quivered and she nearly swooned. He chuckled filthily and gave her neck a nip before taking her hand and leading her inside the building.

Abbie's eyes widened in awe as she took the foyer in. A huge crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the room. The floor featured a marble rosette below the huge decorative light. The right half of the room was set up like a sitting room, with a colonial styled sofa, coffee table, and a cabinet topped with an ornate bouquet of flowers. The left side featured a couple of ornate chairs and eight tidy mail boxes--six for the residents, one labelled “outgoing,” and one labelled “office.”

When she glanced down the hall, as they waited for the elevator, she saw labels for “pool,” “spa,” “laundry,” and “fitness center.”

Ichabod pulled her into the elevator as soon as the doors slid open. Abbie's eyes widened as her back connected with the wall and Ichabod gave her a wicked grin. “Alone at last,” he growled.

He practically attacked her neck with his lips and tongue, making his way down. A soft groan floated up to Abbie's ears as his hands stroked up her thighs, under her skirt. Her heart was racing and she gasped softly as he nuzzled her cleavage before working his way lower.

His fingers curled around the thin hip strings of her thong and then dragged them down her legs. “Oh Jesus,” Abbie croaked, stepping out of her panties. What he did with them, she had no idea because the elevator dinged and he bolted to his feet to haul her out and down the hallway.

Her feet were lifted off the floor and she gasped as she was pressed against his door. He fumbled with the lock, as his focus was on her face. Abbie laughed and his her face against his neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist. 

Ichabod thrust against her, grinding his pelvis against her core as the lock clicked. His eyes darkened and an arcane smile slowly spread across his lips. “Finally,” he murmured, holding her fast as he pushed the door open and walked in with her clinging to him.

Abbie's heart was racing eagerly as Ichabod wasted no time in finding any suitable surface to set her on and remove an article of clothing. Sometimes she helped, just so she could run her hands over each bit of flesh he put on display for her. Damn, he was definitely no string bean, she noted as the layers were stripped away.

He was all beautifully toned without looking like he could crack walnuts with his muscles. His chest hair formed a delightful path for her fingers to follow all the down to the button of his trousers. Ichabod made a frustrated sound. 

“How do you get this dress off,” he growled.

Abbie grinned and slipped off the bar chair he currently had her perched on. She turned around, rubbing her ass against his thighs. Almost immediately, she felt his fingers tugging at the zipper that kept the dress moulded to her curves.

His lips followed the zip down her spine, nipping and licking her skin when he reached the end. Abbie slipped her arms out and let the dress puddle down at her feet, leaving her in just her strapless bra and heels.

She closed her eyes and sighed softly as Ichabod's hands moved up the back of her thighs. “Beautiful,” he murmured, squeezing her ass with both hands. 

“Oh fuck,” Abbie whimpered--whimpered! She had never whimpered before!--as he rubbed his face against her center. She pushed onto her toes and pushed back as he lapped at her with strong strokes of his tongue.

“Yes we are,” she heard Ichabod murmured between strokes.

Her eyes fluttered closed as he sucked on her clit and groaned. Abbie could already feel her thighs trembling. God, had it really been that long that she was going to cum before things had even gotten good and started?

No… no… he was just…

“Shit!” Abbie pressed back against his face as she rode the wave of her first orgasm, grinding against him. He groaned loudly, still feasting upon her at her core.

She nearly collapsed with a heavy sigh as he pulled away to stand up. Her knees wobbled as she tried to support herself. Ichabod wrapped his arms around her waist.

“That's just the beginning of what I want to do to you,” Ichabod growled near her ear. “I'm going to make absolutely certain you don't know whether to beg for more or beg me to stop.”

Abbie yelped as he lifted her feet off the floor and rushed toward one of the open doors. Ichabod paused briefly to pull out a drawer and grab a handful of condoms before continuing to the big bed centered on the only wall without a door or window in it. A laugh ripped from between her lips as he tossed her onto the bed.

She turned over in time to see Ichabod’s hands went to his belt, a hungry gleam in his eyes as he unbuckled it and yanked it from the loops of his trousers. His fingers flicked the button open and he drew down the zip with tantalizing slowness. Abbie felt her breath catch as he let the trousers drop, leaving him in just his black, silken underwear, which were straining from the erection they were trying to contain.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, crossing her legs as she felt a pang at her core. “Is all that for me?”

Ichabod could only nod as he slid out of his silk boxer briefs, a slight shudder of relief passing through him as his erection sprang free. “All of it,” he promised as he reached for her ankle, his fingers closing around it before pulling her to the edge of the bed.

All Abbie could do was to again softly whisper, “Oh my God” as he ripped open one of the condoms and rolled it on with practiced ease.

He raised a questioning brow. “Is this something you want?” he asked.

Abbie swallowed hard and nodded. Good God, she wanted it. She pressed her thighs together to give herself a little relief. “Yeah,” she croaked.

“I can’t hear you, treasure. What do you want?” he rumbled.

Abbie couldn’t breathe, and she could feel her heartbeat in the tips of her fingers and deep, _deep_ in her vagina.

Holy shit.

She swallowed. “I want all of that dick,” Abbie said confidently. “Gimme.”

Ichabod smiled like she said the exact thing he wanted to hear. “With complete and utter enthusiasm,” he said. He used his knee to push her legs apart, crawling onto the bed so he could loom over her. She fell back onto the bed, hair fanned out about her gorgeous face and dark eyes bright in the soft light and Ichabod felt his breath hitch.

He didn’t want or need to figure out what that meant; right now he had a job to do, and that was to make Abbie Mills forget her name for a few hours.

God, he loved his job.

Not many jobs would call upon him to give such a beautiful woman as much pleasure as was within his humanly abilities. Her lips parted in a delicate “o” as he positioned himself and pushed inside of her. Ichabod caught her lips in a deep kiss as he thrust into her gently. 

Abbie moaned softly, pushing her hips forward to greet his thrusts, her fingers tracing the lines of his shoulders and arms before she grasped his biceps tightly. “Oh God,” she groaned, as he hit just the right spot deep inside of her. She heard him chuckle close to her ear before she felt his lips on her jaw.

“Tell me what you want, Treasure,” he murmured. 

Abbie shuddered. “You,” she whimpered. When he pulled his head back, she gazed up into his eyes and cupped his cheek in her hand. “I want you, Ichabod.” She squeezed his hips with her knees as she saw a conflicted expression flittered over his face before she saw him give over to what she wanted.

She gasped when he pulled out of her and grinned wickedly before turning her over onto her belly. “Oh my God,” Abbie laughed, as he dragged her hips back, until she was on all fours. Her eyes widened when she felt Ichabod glide back home inside of her. “Oh shit!”

“You’re so expressive,” Ichabod teased sweetly, near her ear. “I like it.”

Abbie clenched the sheets beneath her as he set up a brutal pace, pounding into her relentlessly. For several minutes, the only words Abbie found herself capable of uttering were loud, high pitched “Oh shit”s. Ichabod grabbed hold of the back of her bra, holding on tight as he bounced her back against his pelvis. In no time at all, Abbie’s eyes were rolling back and she was beyond being embarrassed by the low groans of pleasure that were slipping between her lips.

She gave a small objecting sound when he pulled out again then turned her back over. “I want to see your face when you cum,” he growled.

Abbie’s breath stuttered. “Then make me cum,” she said with more bravado than she felt. Hell, her leg was already trembling - she couldn’t afford to talk shit right now.

“With unimaginable pleasure,” Ichabod said, and with a pointed grin, pushed back inside of her and did not stop until his pelvis kissed hers. He grunted, swearing below his breath before he seemed to summon some inhuman focus from within and began moving in and out of her body with sure strokes. 

Abbie cried out, grabbing the sheets beneath her head, desperate for anything to hold onto as her toes curled and her back bowed. Ichabod was determined to hit every spot she knew she had and find a few more before the night was over and damn it if Abbie wasn’t here for it. She squeezed her inner muscles, enjoying the way Ichabod briefly lost his rhythm.

He leaned down and moaned decadently into her mouth, chuckling when Abbie got wetter. “Seems I’m not the only one who enjoys hearing our partner in pleasure,” he said, and adjusted his hips as he raised her legs higher.

Abbie moaned helplessly as he ground against her spot, applying steady pressure to which there was no escape. When Ichabod began to swirl his hips minutely it pushed her over the edge and she held her breath as waves of pleasure cascaded all over her body. When she finally came back down and could focus her eyes Abbie saw Ichabod looming over her with a strained grimace. 

“Oh my god,” she said breathlessly. “That was… that was..” Abbie huffed a laugh and pushed her hair off of her forehead. “That was amazing,” she said.

Ichabod couldn’t help but smile proudly. “One does one’s best,” he murmured.

Abbie laughed again and shifted. Her eyes went wide as she felt him still hard as a rock inside. “You didn’t come!” 

It was Ichabod’s turn to laugh shallowly. “I almost did from watching you,” he admitted. 

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I wanted to be sure to draw out your pleasure,” he said.

Abbie rubbed his forearms before she wrapped her legs around Ichabod’s waist and flipped them around so he was staring up at her. “Now it’s your turn,” she vowed.

“Oh, Treasu-- _oh my god_ ,” Ichabod moaned as Abbie swirled her hips.

“What was that?” Abbie teased as she reached behind her back to undo her bra. She shivered under Ichabod’s dark, intense gaze and lifted herself just a little to fall back down, taking him in deeply. She whimpered at the sensation as he grabbed her hips and swore. “I don’t think I can hear you,” Abbie taunted.

Abbie rocked harder, revelling in the strained expression on Ichabod’s face as his fingers tightened on her hips. She felt it the moment his body shuddered, his eyes rolled back and and he came with a relieved groan. 

She panted softly as his chest heaved while trying to recapture his breath. After a moment, a wide grin cracked his face. “Bloody hell,” he sighed heavily. “That _was_ amazing.”

He sat up long enough to gather her into his arms and lay back down. They rolled onto their sides, their fingers exploring each other leisurely as they nuzzled their noses against the other’s and shared small kisses. It wasn’t until Abbie started huddling into his arms, making herself a proverbial nest in his arms, that Ichabod seemed to remember he needed to sit up and remove the condom.

Once that was done, they wound down once again, settling in together. The last thing Abbie was conscious of that night was Ichabod placing a gentle kiss atop her head just before she drifted into one of the most peaceful nights of sleep she could recollect in a long time.

~*~

Abbie stirred gently and blinked against the rising sunlight. For a moment her world tipped on end as she didn't recognize where she was. But then she remembered she was at Ichabod's “flat.” 

She looked around and realized she was alone in the bed. After a moment she became acutely aware of the sound of a shower running and a deep baritone singing _O Sole Mio_ in Italian.

Ah. So he was in the shower. 

She wasn't exactly sure what the customary thing to do in this situation was. Did she wait for him to show her out? Did she leave while he was still in the shower? Did she leave a tip? Did she send him a thank you card?

God, she wanted to punch Jenny in the arm when she saw her again. Although she was fairly certain Jenny was going to be asking her all kinds of embarrassing shit when she did see her. She could see it now.

_Someone got the D!_

She could only visualize it because, just before she had left, Jenny had crowed, “Get that D, bitch!” loud enough that Mrs. Collins across the street had whirled around from her gardening to gawk.

_Oh gee, thanks for shouting my business in the middle of the street Jenny. I appreciate the fact everyone I know and see every day will think I'm getting laid tonight._

“Ah, you're awake. Good morning, love.”

Abbie jumped slightly, pulling the blankets up to cover her bare chest. Her eyes roamed over the wet, towel clad man standing in the doorway. _Good God damn_. She looked away shyly. 

“Morning,” she replied bashfully. “I wasn't really sure… what I'm supposed to do…” She looked his way and caught him in the middle of admiring her. “What?”

He grinned and combed his fingers through his hair. “I’m still trying to figure out how a beautiful woman like you would be without at least half a dozen admirers vying for your affections,” he said softly.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “You don't have to…”

“Say things like that,” Ichabod finished when she simply trailed off. “You're correct. I don't have to. But I did. Because it's true.”

Abbie ducked her head. “I have _admirers_. Just none that meet my very picky expectations,” she admitted. She watched Ichabod as he swaggered across the room then sat on the bed. 

Damn, why did he set her heart to skipping? It wasn't fair. The one guy that met almost all her specifications had a job she wasn't 100% on board with. 

Handsome. Sexy. Tall. Sweet. Good in bed. Financially independent.

He crooked his finger to beckon her closer, as he lounged across the bed. Abbie found herself grinning like a jackass as she leaned toward him, until she leaned her elbows on the bed. 

His eyes glimmered mischievously. “May I impart a secret?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

“I should stop being so picky?” she hummed.

“Oh Heavens, no,” Ichabod scoffed. “I was going to say quite the opposite. You should never settle for anything less than what makes you happy.”

She wanted to say that the way he looked at her like she was the center of the universe made her happy. But then he lightly tipped up her chin and kissed her softly. Abbie felt her entire being relax.

That was rare. There was hardly ever a moment when she let her guard down enough that it reverberated down into the depths of her soul. She guessed it was the whole feeling he wouldn't judge her for all the things she had hang ups about with everyone else.

“Mmm… hmm…” Abbie pulled back and grinned. “I need to go home. Can I um… use your shower before I leave?”

“Certainly,” Ichabod murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Although I was hoping to make you breakfast before you left.”

“Oh, well, that's polite of you,” Abbie hummed.

There was something about the way he grinned that she didn't trust implicitly. Like there was more to his suggestion of breakfast than just breakfast. She eyed him with mock suspicion, which made him turn his expression into an innocent pout.

She laughed and crawled out of the bed. Abbie looked over her shoulder when he made an appreciative sound. His eyes were roaming over her nakedness hungrily and he licked his lips. He shook his head to clear it.

“I have shea and cocoa butter wash and lotions in the linen closet of you wish to use them,” he offered. 

Abbie arched a curious brow. “Entertain black women often?”

“Here? No,” he said, shaking his head. “Yourself and one other, ah, _associate_ are the only ones to ever come to my private residence. And, yes, they are black so I like to keep products they prefer on hand just in case they come by.”

_Associate_. Interesting choice of words, Abbie noted. She briefly wondered if him and Tom #3 from the website were dating or something. 

Abbie closed herself in the bathroom and opened the narrow door next to the shower. She spotted a gold basket laden with various bottles and canisters. A few of the items confirmed that, yes, the other party was indeed a man. 

All of the items said the man had very expensive tastes. Emphasis on _very_. She had never personally seen the brands but she had read about them in magazines and online. Not to mention, when she checked the ingredients of one of the “body butters” there was a little sticker that declared it to be nearly $50 for the 8oz canister.

Part of her didn't feel right, using such high end products. The part that won was the one that shrieked _YOLO_ and grabbed all the ones she wanted to try.

After all, she reasoned, she needed stuff to bathe with. So it wasn't like she was just wasting it. By time she stepped out of the bathroom, her skin was glowing, her hair obeyed her every command, and no one could tell her shit.

To her surprise, Ichabod was still stretched out on the bed. He had been watching the door when she walked out. She didn't mean for it to pop out but a curious, “I thought you were going to make breakfast” left her lips faster than she could process it. 

Abbie crawled onto the bed, clutching her towel to her chest and tilted her head curiously.

“I specifically said, I would be making _you_ breakfast,” Ichabod replied wickedly. 

For an entire second, he let her sit there confused. But then he took hold of her waist and next Abbie knew, she was staring up at him, him bracing himself over her. She was breathless.

“And I am a very hungry lad,” he rumbled, then leaned down to kiss her.

“Oh!” Abbie squeaked, then returned his kisses until his lips trailed down her chin and neck.

He gently tugged her towel open and kissed his way to her breasts. He cupped them with both hands, pressing them together enough to rub his face into her cleavage. A soft, muffled groan reached Abbie's ears and she clamped her thighs together hard, in response to the sudden throb between them.

“Good God you smell divine,” Ichabod moaned against her breasts. He lifted his head and sucked one nipple into his mouth, tugging at it with his teeth before releasing it with a pleased smack of his lips. “I could die happy if I could just spend eternity… right here… hmmm mmm…”

He nuzzled her cleavage again then gave her other nipple the same attention he gave the first. Abbie closed her eyes and sighed raggedly as she swore.

Ichabod lifted his head and his tongue flicked over his lips as he looked between each breast. He caught her eyes and grinned before leaning down and taking them both at the same time. Abbie’s legs jumped and kicked frantically as his tongue darted around each one before he released them.

“You like that, love,” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

Abbie could only nod, nearly melting into a puddle as she watched his face slowly move further away as he kissed his way down her belly. His tongue whirled into her belly button, his eyes holding onto her own as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, before kissing his way further down.  
Her knees clamped around his face as he began to feast himself at her core. His large hands cupped her hips, holding her in place as he sucked and licked as loudly and, she swore, as messily as humanly possible. Abbie gasped and fisted his hair as the pleasure coiled so tight in her belly that she was almost curled around his entire head.

She fell back against the bed, her back bowing as her the heels of her feet dug into Ichabod’s back. “Jesus fucking Christ!” Abbie shrieked as her body convulsed and she spun into an orgasm that left her trembling and sobbing.

Abbie was only vaguely aware of Ichabod continuing to delicately lap at her center as she recovered. When she let out a loud groan of relief, he finally lifted his head and wiped his face with the back of his hand. She laughed as he gave her the biggest, most innocent eyes she had ever seen a grown ass man give.

“Damn,” she sighed. “You _were_ a hungry boy.”

“It’s sated for now,” he said sweetly.

“Damn,” she repeated. Her head turned to the side to see the clock read nearly 10AM. “Shit! I told my sister I’d have her over for lunch today.”

Ichabod gave a regretful sigh. “I suppose I should see you safely to your car then.”

“You don’t have to,” Abbie said.

“But I want to,” he said softly, his eyes glowing with the kind of affection that made her heart stumble.

She nodded then softly replied, “Okay.”

~*~

Abbie looked up at Ichabod as they reached her car. She could feel her face warming up as she caught him staring down at her with an affectionate smile. “Thanks for a, um, lovely night,” she said, shyly looking away. “And morning.”

“It was absolutely my pleasure, Abbie,” Ichabod replied, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss it. “When you’re ready for our next outing, just give me a call and we can set something up that’s convenient for you.”

“Maybe next time I won’t be nearly as nervous,” Abbie said.

“Perhaps next time I will be more adequately prepared and not make you as nearly as uncomfortable in the beginning,” Ichabod said. “I do apologize again for the first restaurant.”

Abbie shook her head. “You couldn’t have known I would be that uncomfortable in that place. So I take a little responsibility with not filling out the profile properly.” She looked away, laughing quietly. He kept looking at her _like that_ and wouldn’t stop kissing her hand. It wasn’t because she was embarrassed by what he was doing. She was more or less embarrassed by how her body and brain were reacting to what he was doing.

Countless dates she had gone on, several partners she’s had, and this man was the only one she could recollect that had reduced her to a blushing school girl. Next she knew, she’d be at home doodling hearts on her notebook in pink pen and practicing introducing herself as Mrs. Abigail Crane.

“I should go,” Abbie said quietly, pushing the button to unlock the door to her car. To her surprise Ichabod opened the door for her.

“Until next time, my lady,” he murmured, kissing her hand one last time.

Abbie pulled her hand away, almost regretfully and closed the door. She pulled out onto the street and took one last glance in the rearview and saw him staring down the street in her direction. She didn’t lose sight of him until she turned the corner.

She let out a heavy sigh and wondered when she would next have time to see him again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some m/m content

Ichabod sighed as he watched Abbie’s car round the corner. Last night had gone well. It had gone entirely too well. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt comfortable enough with a client to be himself so quickly. Well, actually he could. But that didn’t count because they hadn’t started out as a client.

He glanced toward a black SUV as it parked before he turned and walked into the Starbucks to make his order. The barista smiled brightly at him. “Good morning, Mr. Crane, you want your usual?”

“Yes, please, Nakia,” Ichabod replied. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he heard a new comer enter the coffee house. He nodded backwards. “Also, his usual.” 

Nakia glanced behind him and nodded. “Blonde Vanilla Bean Coconut Milk Latte, two extra shots of espresso,” she said, pointing at Ichabod. She pointed at the new comer. “Espresso con panna. Both grande size and in glass cups.”

“You’re a star, Nakia,” Ichabod said, stuffing a few extra bills in the tip jar after he paid. He stepped away from the counter and finally turned toward the newcomer and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Are you stalking me, Director Reynolds?”

“Of course not,” Danny replied. “I just happened to see you as I was driving by and thought it would be nice to catch up since you didn’t show at the club last night.”

As soon as Nakia slid their drinks across the serving counter, they moved to a table near the window, in the corner. “I told you I was going to be busy last night. New client.” Danny scowled for a moment. “What?”

“You said it was a female client,” Danny intoned. “Normally they don’t keep you busy all night.”

“Well, this one did. We hit it off very well.” Ichabod took a sip of his drink to hide a smirk. When he put his cup down he scooted his chair closer to the table and leaned closer to Danny. Danny grinned. “Are you jealous, Director Reynolds?” _Say you’re jealous_ , Ichabod silently pleaded. Danny closed his eyes and started shaking his head. “If you’re jealous, say you’re jealous.”

“I’m not… I’m not je--” Danny opened his eyes and scoffed out a small laugh. Ichabod grinned, moving closer until his shoulder brushed Danny’s. “Okay. Maybe I’m a little jealous.” Ichabod nudged him with his shoulder. “It’s just a little. A minute amount of jealousy. Practically microscopic.”

Ichabod leaned in until he was close enough that all he could see was Danny's dark eyes. “It doesn’t sound like it’s microscopic.”

Danny put his arm around Ichabod’s waist for a brief hug. It had been nearly two years they had been… doing whatever this thing they were doing. It couldn't exactly be called dating. If two people were dating, one of the parties involved didn't have to pay to spend time with their lover. If they were dating, Danny wouldn't still feel awkward showing him affection. Ichabod knew he was the only sexual partner Danny had at the moment. 

“It’s not microscopic,” Danny murmured. He began to lean in, his intent clear on his face. Ichabod pulled back with a grin, making Danny scoff, “Tease.”

Silence spread between them for several long seconds. They sipped their coffees companionably, watching patrons come and go. Occasionally people would glance their way. Some would grin, others would look disgusted. Danny was often very straight-laced and serious. It was nice to get him to admit to being jealous, even if it only briefly gave Ichabod false hopes that Danny saw him as more than what they were.

Ichabod had always told himself that if he found the right person he would gladly give up his career at the drop of a hat, if it’s all that stood in the way of their being together. He would gladly be a doting house husband, or perhaps even launch an entirely new career. He had plenty of educational background so he could do a variety of things. 

There were times he thought Danny could be that person. But he hadn’t particularly given any indication that it was what he wanted. Sure there was questions on occasion from Danny. _Would you ever consider stopping doing this line of work?_ And Ichabod always gave him the spiel that if he ever met the right person he’d consider it. It was always received with a small grunt from Danny afterward.

“So what were y'all doing that kept you too busy to come to the club?” Danny asked. Ichabod glanced down when he felt tentative fingers touch his hand. There was something remiss about Danny's behavior, he noted. Like there was a secret he was bursting to tell.

Ichabod sipped his drink and peered at Danny. “I would like to plead the fifth on that one as it would incriminate me in a court of law.” Danny scowled and pulled his hand away. “Don’t be angry. You know very well what it is I do for a living.”

“I know, I know,” Danny sighed. “Doesn’t mean I like it or am happy about it.” He pursed his lips. “Was she at least pretty?”

“Gorgeous,” Ichabod hummed, nodding. A smile tugged at his lips as his brain conjured images of Abbie's fluttering lashes and her full, kissable lips parted by soft sighs.

“Was she good in--”

“You know I don't kiss and tell, Daniel,” Ichabod intoned, shaking himself out of the visions of Abbie.

Danny sighed heavily and scrubbed his hand over his hair with a frustrated sound. “I want time to see you again soon,” he murmured. “When can you make that happen? I want to take you someplace nice. Maybe have a weekend together at Niagara. Like we used to do.”

Ichabod laughed quietly. “The last time we were at Niagara, we were chasing a serial killer and you got food poisoning.”

“Was it _really_ working though,” Danny asked, his tone teasing “All we did was sit in the hotel eating questionable chinese takeaway. I recall you spending an inordinate amount of time trying to convince me I was actually bisexual during that trip.”

Ichabod scoffed. “I take offense. I simply stated, _once_ , that you shouldn't completely rule it out.” Danny humphed. “Because I saw the way you were eyeing me. And I was referring to having a professional sex worker get you off, not necessarily that it should be _me_. You came to that determination all on your own, Director Reynolds.”

He gave Danny a cheeky smile and batted his lashes. Danny shook his head. “I just can't with you and that ego,” he chuckled. “I was _eyeing you_ because I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact I had never met a male sex worker before.”

“And licking your lips,” Ichabod added with a little smirk. “Admit it. You wanted a piece of this.”

“That's hearsay.”

Ichabod caught Danny's lips in a quick but gentle kiss. The other man hummed with approval. After a moment, Ichabod pulled back and grinned as Danny licked his lips.

“Mm. Damn,” Danny murmured. “Y’ girl was wearing cherry lip balm and you didn't even bother wiping it off before kissing me. Either that or you put some on this morning.” He kissed Ichabod's temple. “So when can we have some time together?”

“That depends, how long are you in town?” Ichabod asked.

“Quantico is about to be doing recruitments so… I'm mostly going to be here, checking out applicants, doing cross references, and all that fun stuff,” Danny provided. “Other than tramping down to Virginia during the course, I'm all yours for at least the next four months.” He looked away then quietly added, “Maybe longer.”

Danny fidgeted, spinning his cup in slow circles on the table with both hands. “You could come by my place after you get done with your scheduled things,” Danny suggested. “I could spend your days off at your place. Just like when we first teamed up to find your friend's murderer.”

Ichabod swallowed hard and tried not to let himself get too excited by Danny's nostalgia. While it would be very nice to have an entire weekend with Danny--in the place where they shared a couple of intimate firsts--his planner may not be too fond of it. It was coming up on one of the busier seasons and he was always in high demand for people wanting a “classy new boyfriend” to show off at their boss’s yacht party. 

The time off stuff would be a breeze though. It would just be a matter of letting Danny know which days were free and he could be waking up in Danny's warm, strong embrace.

Who was Ichabod kidding? He'd move the Heavens and Earth too if it meant he could spend time with Danny. The thought of including Abbie popped into his mind and Ichabod shifted in his seat as he imagined his moderately average self sandwiched between his two insanely beautiful clients.

“I might be able to _squeeze you in_ weekend after next,” Ichabod said. When Danny's brows arched, he added, “Pun not intended.”

“That pun was a thousand percent intentional,” Danny chuckled. 

“Prove it.”

“You know I can't do that in public,” Danny murmured coyly. “What has you fidgeting in your seat? Thinking about _squeezing me in_?”

“Sort of,” Ichabod replied, finishing off his coffee. He wouldn't dare tell Danny he was thinking about a ménage trois. “Do you have the time, Director? Or do you need to haste away to work?”

“For you? I always have time,” Danny said affectionately. He finished his coffee and took both cups to the barista. “You have a good day Nakia.”

“Thanks gentlemen, you too,” the girl said with a beaming smile as Ichabod moved to Danny's side. “Don't be strangers.”

“We won't,” both men said before turning to leave.

They made the quick journey to Ichabod’s apartment. Ichabod hummed an idle tune as Danny took a long look at his watch in the elevator. Ichabod could barely contain the smile that was on the brink of exploding across his face.

His Danny. So straight-laced and serious. Never giving any real outward show of anything in public. Sure there might be heated glances and maybe a kiss in an almost empty Starbucks. When out in the world, they saw ruggedly handsome, they saw the stern FBI director. They saw the man that played the hard game of getting ahead at all costs.

But as soon as the door to Ichabod’s apartment closed, he saw the real Danny. The Danny that could laugh with ease. The Danny that had eyes full of affection and loved giving soft kisses. The vulnerable Danny. The soft and gentle Danny.

Ichabod gasped into Danny's mouth as he was pressed against the entry door. Danny held him in place with his hips as his fingers made torturous work of the buttons of Ichabod’s shirt.

Danny trailed the back of his fingers up Ichabod’s chest. “Now, to prove that pun was intentional,” Danny teased. His fingers moved down Ichabod's chest until he reached the button of his trousers. Danny kept his eyes locked with Ichabod's as he flicked the button open then pulled down the zipper.

Ichabod hummed curiously. “I fail to see how your method will prove anything but, please do continue,” Ichabod said. He groaned loudly when Danny's hand made its way onto his cock.

“We need to have a long talk about the fact you don't ever wear underwear,” Danny murmured. “You make it way too easy.”

“Easy is practically my given name,” Ichabod stated, with the wickedest smirk he could muster. Which, Danny's warm, gentle hand didn't permit much wickedness to expose itself anywhere near Ichabod's face. The wickedness seemed intent of staying focused on where Danny's hand was.

“Should we take this discussion to the bedroom,” Danny asked. 

“If this discussion is going where I think it is, that would prove wise,” Ichabod replied. He gasped softly as Danny walked backwards, hand still firmly grasping his cock. Ichabod grappled to keep his trousers up enough to follow.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, clothes went flying in a race to feel their lover's skin against their own. It was playful, it was passionate, and both were left weak and breathless when all was said and done. When Danny curled himself around Ichabod in his post-cotial haze Ichabod pressed a kiss to his temple.

“You were right,” Ichabod murmured. Danny grunted questioningly. “That pun was a thousand times intentional.”

A grin spread across Danny's face just before he burst into laughter. He buried his face in the back Ichabod’s neck and murmured something that made his heart leap into his throat. But it had been so muffled, Ichabod couldn't be certain he hadn't misheard. “What was that,” he asked, a gentle tremble in his voice. 

“Nothing,” Danny replied. “Let's just chill a bit before I have to get to the real world again, k?”

Their “chilling” lasted until the office called to see if Danny was going to make it in. It recommenced after Danny feigned a sore throat and announced he couldn't make it after all. In all, it was one of the best days Ichabod had in awhile.

~*~

Abbie groaned with irritation as she turned on to her street and spotted Jenny's beat up Bronco in the driveway. Great. Just great. Just what Abbie wanted to deal with first thing in the morning.

She was already anticipating Jenny's nine thousand questions. All of them embarrassing. None of them Abbie wanted to answer. She wondered how long she could keep Jenny in a cycle of deflecting answers. 

_Probably a good twenty minutes at least_.

With a heavy sigh, Abbie crawled out of her Jeep and made her way to the door. She held her breath as she entered the house. Before the door was even closed, Jenny peeped around the kitchen doorway.

“So how was the dick for hire?” she asked with an impish grin.

“Good morning to you too, bitch,” Abbie replied with a slight laugh. “I'm fine, thanks for asking.”

Jenny groaned and rolled her eyes. “Are we really gonna play this game? You’re in the same clothes you wore last night. You _just now_ came rolling your ass home. And you just called me bitch so that means you’re in a good mood. So I _know_ you got dick. I just want to make sure it was worth my money.”

Abbie breezed past her sister to start lunch. “I always call you bitch,” Abbie pointed out. “The outing was nice. He was a consummate gentleman. Sweet. Funny. Took me to this really cute mom and pop Italian place.”

“I didn’t pay that asshole nearly a grand for an entire night for _nice_ ,” Jenny huffed. “Or for a date to a mom and pop place.”

Abbie pursed her lips. Damn. _Nearly a grand_. She had no idea that was the going rate for Ichabod’s services. “Actually, yes. You did. You and I both know prostitution is illegal in New York, Jenny,” she pointed out. “Unless you’re admitting to committing a crime? It even stated in the contract that sex was not part of the agreement.”

Jenny opened her mouth them clamped it closed with an annoyed grumble. “You’re really going to be tight lipped about it?” she asked.

Abbie shook her head and chuckled. “Why are you all up in my business?”

“I’m your little sister, it’s part of the job description that I get up in your business,” Jenny replied. “Besides, I told you, I want to make sure it was worth the money.”

“Just trust me,” Abbie said. “It was worth it. More than worth it.”

Abbie set to preparing rice. She closed her eyes and shook her head when she heard Jenny make a happy squeal. “ _You got laid_ ,” Jenny crowed.

“Okay fine, yes. I did,” Abbie grumbled, retrieving some vegetables from the fridge. She pointed at Jenny. “Shut up. I’m still kind of having mixed feelings about the whole thing.”

“As long as you had fun, that's all that matters,” Jenny said. Abbie cocked a brow. “It is! No more questions. I promise.” Jenny was quiet for a total of five seconds before asking, “So what was he like? Cause I've been picturing some Deuce Bigalow little shit. And he seemed a little annoyed when I was talking to him.”

“Maybe because you are the type of person that calls him dick for hire, ever think about that?” Abbie groused. She looked at her spread then turned to get the chicken and buttermilk out of the fridge. “He was… damn he was handsome. Sweet. Charming, obviously. Even in my heels I barely reached his shoulders. It felt like I was on an actual date with someone you set me up with. Well… maybe not you. Maybe someone one of the girls from work would set me up with.”

Jenny gasped and put her hand over her heart. “I am offended. Are you suggesting your work friends know you better than I do? Me, your sister, your flesh and blood sibling.”

“ _You_. I'm saying you got shitty taste in men,” Abbie deadpanned. “Or do you not recall The Great Hawley Incident. Where he was trying to not only get into your pants, but mine, your best friend's pants, all while dating that crazy ass bitch that tried to kill us.”

Jenny stared at her for a moment, all the stages of grief crossing her features. “Touche,” Jenny said tightly. 

Abbie just rolled her eyes and laughed. “So, you already paid for all the encounters?” 

“Five grand,” Jenny nodded. “And I want you to make damn sure you get my money's worth. I want nights on the town. I want you in sexy dresses in exclusive night clubs. No more of this silly mom and pop shit… since sex isn't part of the deal.” She peered at the stove. “So when are we eating woman, I'm starving.”

“Just give me ten more minutes, damn,” Abbie scoffed. “I just got home!”

As she turned back to cooking, Abbie mulled it over in her head. Sure she had debated not doing more than just the one encounter. But Jenny _had_ already paid up for all of them. And Ichabod seemed like a nice guy. To be fair, it would give her an excuse to get out of the house. Besides, she didn't want Jenny's money to just go to waste. What harm would there be in enjoying her remaining encounters?

It was like she'd do something silly like fall in love with the guy. And it wasn't like he'd fall in love with her! Everything was simply a financially advantageous situation. Ichabod was doing a job--a job he assured her he enjoyed doing! And Jenny's money wouldn't be going to waste. And she'd have a reason to get out and socialize. 

It was a win for everybody. 

No love or emotional attachments involved. 

_Right?_


End file.
